Her eyebrows drew together. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘Because it would never have worked. I’m Declan King. I don’t get to just do whatever I want. I train, I fight, I win.’ The words tasted bitter in his mouth. ‘There’s no room left for anything else.’
‘Sure there is,’ Maeve said.
Declan looked down. ‘There’s a reason I was never out before this,’ he said. ‘They can have every other part of me if they want, but not this.’
A small frown played at Maeve’s lips. ‘So you gave up Oliver because you didn’t want people to find out you’re gay?’ she asked. ‘Are you just never going to dateanyone?’
‘I wasn’t planning on it.’ Her frown deepened, and he continued, ‘It’s – everyone loves me for what Ido. My entire life, it’s been about being the best, winning.’ His life had stopped feeling like his own a long time ago, when his father and brother had become the priority. ‘I don’t think I can be vulnerable with someone in that way. Sometimes I think if I let myself be, they would see there’s nothing there.’
Maeve looked at him, her mouth slightly agape. ‘Are you serious? Declan, why would you ever think that?’
Declan stared out into the blue of the ocean, feeling his cheeks flush. Maeve had steered their conversation to a place Declan never ventured. His eyes pricked and he swallowed hard.
‘I, um—’ He let out a shaky breath. ‘I’m not built for it. Other people, they’ve got this love built in that they’re waiting to give to someone and I – I don’t.’
Maeve looked livid. ‘I’ve seen you with Oliver and trust me, you’re fucking built for it. You’re the one who looks after all of us – the first person to make a cup of tea, to offer advice and keep us going. We’d all have gone mad in here without you. I mean, hell, Jack and I probably wouldn’t even be together if not for your meddling.’
Declan didn’t know what to do with Maeve’s words. Was that honestly how she saw him? Didn’t she know all he was good for was a fight?
‘There are too many things that could go wrong,’ he said finally. ‘It would’ve been too hard.’
Maeve scoffed. ‘Relationshipsarehard.’ She pointed to Jack, who was running into an oncoming wave. ‘He’s a teacher and I travel the world for half of the year, but we’re both willing to make it work. We’ve got to try.’
Declan followed her gaze over to Jack. He was grinning at Holly, the sun glinting off his shoulders as he swam. He said something that made Holly throw her head back in laughter. Declan thought back to when they’d all swum together in that exact spot. He remembered it like it had happened to someone else; he had walked out of the surf and sat next to Oliver and he had changed completely.
He’d let Oliver go because he was too scared to keep him. Now he was terrified that he was going to feel like this forever, the tightness in his chest turning chronic, walking around with a crucial piece of himself missing. He thought about going home after this was all over; he thought about stepping back into his dad’s gym. He thought about training; he thought about hitting the bag, over and over and over again. His body going through the motions, his eyes blank. He thought about getting hit; he thought about eating mat; he thought about tasting blood.
He did taste blood, the soft skin inside his cheek splitting under clenched teeth. He couldn’t say the words; if he did he’d be done for.
‘I love him,’ Declan said, barely above a whisper. He wasn’t sure if Maeve even heard him over the sound of the waves crashing around them. Instead, louder, he said, ‘It’s too late. He’s already gone.’
For the next week, Declan woke up early. He swam laps. He lifted weights. He laughed with the other contestants. He flirted with Imogen. He answered all of Paige’s interview questions. He played the game. He was charming and he was funny. He was everything that Declan King was known to be. He no longer felt like Declan King.
He sat on the couch swing with Jack and Holly, listening to them talk and idly watching a small blue bird hopping across the deck, inching its way closer to the kitchen.
‘I’m just not sure,’ Holly was saying. The bird made it to the side of the counter, where Maeve and Imogen were sharing a bag of crisps.
‘He seems like a nice enough bloke,’ Jack said. Imogen dropped a crisp and the bird descended on it, pecking at it before grabbing a piece and flying to a safe spot a few feet away to consume the stolen meal.
‘Decs, what do you think?’ Holly asked.
Declan startled at the sound of his name. ‘Er, what?’
Jack frowned. ‘Holly is trying to decide if she fancies Liam,’ he explained, in a tone that made Declan feel like one of his secondary students.
‘Oh, right,’ Declan said, looking over at the two contestants who had arrived that morning. It was a pointless conversation – there was no way for Holly to win, with Liam coming in too late to make any impact on the audience. And if it was love she was looking for, Declan certainly couldn’t help her. ‘Well, how does he make you feel about yourself?’ he asked. ‘Does he make you laugh?’
Holly blinked at him, then threw her head in her hands. ‘I don’t know,’ she wailed. ‘I didn’t expect it to be this hard!’
‘Come on, Holls,’ Jack said, putting an arm around her and shooting Declan an annoyed look. ‘It’s gonna be okay.’
‘I don’t know what I’m even doing here; I sure as shit haven’t found love,’ Holly said despondently. ‘Owen was the closest I came, and he’s gone!’
‘Hey,’ Declan said, scooting towards her and grabbing her hand. ‘You’ve been braver than the lot of us, putting yourself out there again and again. And don’t say you didn’t find love here, because you have. I love you.’
‘Me too,’ Jack agreed.
